the world within
running from and running towards
once upon a time, a girl was on a run around her favorite lake when she mysteriously found a book that was left behind. As she immersed herself in the words of said book, human connectedness took over her. She started realizing just how big and plentiful emotions were and how we all share the experience of said emotions. Oftentimes we run away from our own world, our own problems and find distractions- whether that’s socializing, watching TV, or even reading a book. We numb our own lives and feelings by peering through the looking glass of others when those are the very same feelings that reside within us.
(based on a true story)
the days of october have been sweeping over me in a hurry, my hair sways in the gust, tickles my neck like a whisper from an unknown soul, greeting past, cheek to cheek, from some parallel land.
the scent and the touch is one of an august remembering.
the earth feels warm, begging for my notice, sun beckoning my eye.
life moves by so fast, I thought as my feet sprang way.
the ethereal sparkle of a lake twinkled above my brow
taste turned to salt as the sun shined away
the wind caressed my face and swallowed my lungs, as gently as a puppy lets out a sigh after a long and swell play
with each step further I run, I run out of breath
Escaping the sun, I settled in to the shadows.
And there, nestled away, cozy and tucked within, sowed among the spiders and the soil
was a book
for the following days, i’d be lost within the pages of the remnants, of one’s once mind
away it was hard to look
thoughts then provoke and thoughts then overtake
to say feelings are intangible is a great mistake
For there exists a magnitude, a universe of emotion all within
within the depths of the soul
within each trace of tissue
sometimes it seeps out, sometimes it takes control
feelings are in equal measure to each strand of grass
where one grows, so may a weed, as may a flower
planted so deep within the earth lays a fountain of youth
it’s held within our hands and walked on, soft as sand, meant to soothe but we, we recluse
often times we trick ourselves in playing a show
we think the mask grasps our face so tight, but really all it takes is one look through the soul
the windows to our soul, they share all of our secrets
the secrets, they lay between the seconds and the minutes
of a single eye’s subtle glow
and so when I turn to my right, stopped at this light and notice the man of the gaze I just stole, our soil meshes into one another, weaving between our toes
the stories begin to bleed and the emotions, they blend
before you know it, there we are, our feet stomping among the blades and the weeds and the flowers as we run, hand in hand
getting knotted by our souls
we run and we run, from those very stories living in our center
sometimes they age and they turn, such as leaves in the fall
from fresh and live, to crushed and cold
green turns to yellow and yellow, gold
withering away inside as we try to keep warm, to stall time until our deep cuts are all exposed
the wind gust steals the mask, the leaves fly as hope dies but we choose to sprint in disbelief
only to be stopped, to look down, at our feet in the soil
and find the same stories there, hiding deep within the shadows
we pick them up and immersion overtakes
we swim and we swim, through the universe within, finding relief by that parallel that we may live
to be lost in another’s sane story
it seems written words on paper is much more a glory
than being face to face with the world within
the windy, unwritten, world within
she runs, and the wind grows stronger
the pages of an empty book, they fly and they flutter
blank pages all turn to a platter
as the world within often shatters
👏🏼 👏🏼